


Sal’s Nightmares

by T42



Category: Sally Face (Video Games)
Genre: Basically what sal’s nightmares are about?, Flashbacks, Gizmo is most definitely Sal’s ESA, Gore, Mental Illness, Nail Trauma, Nightmares, Other, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Sal has a hard time, Self Harm, and how he reacts and copes, salarry if you really fuckin squint, self harm mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-10-02 21:25:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17271401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/T42/pseuds/T42
Summary: Sal’s friends know he has nightmares, but they couldn’t imagine what they entail. Some insight as to what Sal goes through during and after flashbacks and PTSD episodes.





	Sal’s Nightmares

One of the worst parts about having mental illness and flashbacks to Sal was the medication. Sure, some of them made him feel better... but if one didn’t work, it really showed. He was weaning off of one pill to try the next, his therapist hoping more frequent visits would aid him at least a little bit in keeping a few bad nightmares away. Though, as he’s said many times, it wouldn’t help until he found a medication that worked for him. He knew this because he’s lived it too many times. The first day being off a pill or many weren’t too bad... but about the third day into the new one, he would start having dreams. His sleep wasn’t dark silence that at least left him feeling well rested the next day, at least allowed him to feel normal for a moment. Oh, no. He knew the night was coming, but he didn’t expect it to hit him as hard as it did.

The atmosphere around him was perfect for sleep. Gizmo at his feet, clock ticking softly and the sound of the occasional car and their lights just barely shining through the upper windows of his apartment. Dad wasn’t home this week, so the hall or kitchen light wouldn’t be left on and he didn’t hear the heavy footsteps of a sleepy man going to get something to drink or the fan of the bathroom. It was silence. Peaceful. Others at the Addison Apartments would be jealous to have just a moment of sheer quiet like Sal had tonight. But his dreams didn’t discriminate. No matter what he was feeling the day before, if they wanted to come to haunt him... they would. Without fail and without mercy. 

Sal’s slumber opened with black... his mind wasn’t bothered with much else but static like it would be on a good night. His subconscious thanked his brain for keeping quiet for the night. A restful weekend was just what he wished for and thought he was going to get. He knew he was being too hopeful as he’d hopped into bed two to three hours ago. As his body melted into his bed and his brain tried to decide whether it would be tranquil for the night or not ... he wasn’t surprised but surely not delighted. 

It took one thing to trigger his nightmare. A large truck went by the Addison Apartments... it wasn’t too loud or too disturbing. Maybe it shook the foundation of the complex just a tad due to the rickety construction and age of the building. To anyone else it wasn’t anything to think twice about. To Sal, though? That’s all he needed to be sent into a spiral. The low grumble of the truck that passed by painted an image in his unconscious mind. A growl. A low growl. 

He started to remember again. The image of what looked like a wolf... of course, he knew by the tattered collar and the frayed end of a leash tied to its collar it was someone’s domesticated pet. Domesticated? At this point it was arguable. His small hands twitch and begin to grab at the air at his sides idly in excitement. He knew his mother told him to wait for her but he couldn’t help his happiness. He always wanted a dog as a child, but he had Gizmo at home which wasn’t so bad at all. With how this dog was acting wasn’t it happy? Sal thought the noise coming from the canine’s chest was a purr much like his pet cat would do when he was happy to see him, not assuming what would happen next. “Come here, puppy..!” He called, a bright face smiling and both blue eyes squinting in happiness. His nose crinkled up with joy and as his hand raised and his foot took a step forward, the dog’s tongue slipped out to lick its jaws, ears pinning back and teeth coming into view. It only took Sal’s young mind a moment to think about how many teeth it had before lean legs were bolting in his direction. Sal would have been more afraid if he weren’t so naive.

The full weight of the animal came down on him. It was hard to move, but in that split moment his arms lifted and touched the fur at the sides of its front legs. He could only think it was soft and warm before his attention was driven to realize how warm his face felt. Jaws opening and closing around the flesh on his face, tearing. Then they would grab on and rip from side to side as if he were something to be played with, something dead. He couldn’t see out of one eye and his face was hot and wet with something salty that wasn’t limited to just tears. In the eye that worked in the moment he couldn’t see very well either, the blur of red and fur covering what little range he did have to look around. He was struggling against the jaws and claws of the beast above him, up until he heard his mother’s voice. The weight on his chest disappeared and he went limp, snarling and his mother’s screams disappearing far behind him. 

This is when Sal jolts awake. What he doesn’t notice as soon as he wakes up is he’s been struggling in his bed for a long time. Gizmo stared from the high place of his dresser, knowing to steer clear until Sal was done. The nightmare felt so short but it had been a lengthy episode this time around... enough for his blankets to be messed, half on the floor and his pillows squished against the wall. Sheets pulled up at one corner and a new set of small scratch marks from his nails on the wall as he’d tried to escape in his nightmare. Thankfully Terrence knew about his episodes... Sal offered to pay for the damage to the wall every time. But that was far away from his mind at the moment. But that was the least of his worries at the moment. Sal breathed heavily and labored, even struggling to get the air into his lungs. He scrambled up from his bed and ran to the window to look at his fingers. He felt wet, and the force of his scratching on the wall caused his fingers to bleed. His mind was stuck on getting away. Was this blood from his face like it was before? 

He gasped as he made way for his bathroom, pushing the door open and hitting the walls to find any light switch. On his way, his legs attempt to give out in his panic but he makes it to the counter of the restroom before he can really fall. Sal turns on the light and he’s inches from the mirror, looking with a wide eye at his face to find any trace of trauma or blood. His breathing slows as he remembers where he is and finds no blood on his face. He touches his cheeks and nose and peers at his fingers in question but then slowly puts two and two together about the cause of the small amount of blood that was involved in this episode. With a deep sigh, he looks at his face with a slowly closing mouth and slumps his shoulders. He’s safe. 

As soon as he can register what he’s hearing around him, it’s quiet except for his heavy breathing through his nose and a sob here and there. Tears and drool riddle his face and it’s far from pretty... but he doesn’t need to worry about looking presentable in his time of fear. This was the reality of what he lived with every night. Sure, it wasn’t bad every single day but it always haunted him. Even so, it’s almost over and he can finally relax. A shaky hand reaches for a tissue and he stumbles back as he slowly wipes his face clear of tears with his back resting against the tub and knees pulled to his chest. As he rubs at his face with the tissue he uses his free arm to begin picking at the scar tissue on his thigh. He’s done this before. While it isn’t a harmless coping mechanism for him, it keeps him more or less grounded when his consciousness tries to flee him in times like this. 

As he starts to draw blood, it looks like a little someone is here to stop him. The creak of the door forces Sal to blink back to life and he looks over with an open mouth, feeling warmth when he hears Gizmo’s familiar meow. His open mouth closes into a light smile and he taps a foot on the tile. Gizmo purrs softly, much different than the growl of his nightmare and hops into the cozy little pocket Sal has made in his lap. His clean hand raises to drop the tissue and bury itself into the fur of his friend’s chin, mumbling softly to him. “Of course you came to save me, huh? Glad I can count on you, Mo,” he rests his face in his fur. Exhausted eyes close for a moment and he rocks back and forth slightly to calm himself from the last bit of anxiety tied to the situation he found himself in. He couldn’t be sure how much time passed until he scooped Gizmo up in his arms and decided to head back to bed.

He felt... restless as soon as he arrived back to his room. He set Gizmo down onto the bed and he crawled back into his covers. His mind and body were too tired to fix his sheets or his blankets. Sal knew as soon as he fell asleep he would be gone for hours. Rarely did his nightmares come back twice when they were that bad but he wanted to be sure he had something comforting to listen to. He looked at the clock and reached for his walkie talkie, pursing his lips. 3:30 am was a good time to bother the person you trust the most. Sal smiled lightly and pressed the button, “Hey. I know you’re up so don’t try to ignore me,” He jokes in a groggy voice, awaiting a reply. 

A pause before he hears that familiar tone and a snorting chuckle that makes him feel at home, even though he already is, “Like I ever try to ignore you. You know how loud I keep my music on my headphones, man. What’s up?” Larry replies, his tone sunny despite it being dark outside. Sal bites the inside of his cheek, “Y’know. Just had a rough dream.. I’m too tired to come down to bother you, though. Uh... hey, would you mind keeping the walkie near you and playing your music? Or just talk to me? I know Lisa’s sleeping but it would, um, mean a lot. I can’t sleep without the noise tonight,” he admits, knowing his time of weakness wouldn’t make Larry judge him. Larry almost interrupts, “Oh, you know I got no problem! If mom wakes up she’ll understand. But I’ll keep it on the low low so we don’t have to worry about that. Here, let me kinda rig something up to keep the button pressed,” as he rummages around in his room, Sal is silent and his finger hovers over the button. 

Soon the device starts to make broken crackling noises from Larry’s end. He’s currently holding a piece of an eraser down onto the ‘talk’ button, wrapping tape around the walkie talkie in order to keep the button pressed down. “I think what I have goin’ on here is pretty professional. Todd would be proud!” Larry laughs as if he’s done something genius and Sal smirks at his words. Before he can reply, Larry is turning up his music to a reasonable level. “Hey, you can talk and everything but don’t expect me to reply. I’ll be asleep in no time, but.. if you could just stay on. Just for a little,” Sal’s tone is quiet and almost sheepish. He usually isn’t high maintenance so asking something like this is a little out of his comfort zone. But Larry agrees with his words and doesn’t question it, mumbling a story about his day into the walkie talkie while the music plays. Brush strokes sputter through the speaker along with his voice and Sal can feel himself start to drift off once again.


End file.
